A Phantom's Canon
by Nikolo
Summary: Young Ciel Phantomhive was blessed with the voice of an angel. When an unmentionable event robs the boy of his will to sing, how does a mere vocal instructor revive the fallen angel? Lame summary is lame. AU, Yaoi. M for later chapters
1. Track Zero: Overture

_AN; So, my first chaptered Kuroshitsuji fic, after writing more than enough one-shots. I came up with the idea after listening to The Beatles in the car today. Yeah, I know. WOW YOU WERE INSPIRED BY THE BEATLES NO ONE'S EVER DONE THAT. Okay, shut up. I'm not even going to say what song. Anyways, I wanted to write an AU. So I could write something good, I'd have to base the AU around something I'm already familiar with; music. Granted, I know close to NOTHING technical about music, know even less about vocals (even though I'm the lead singer in my band…shut up) and know NOTHING AT ALL about classical music. I know a lot more about guitar, but guitar just doesn't suit anyone in the Kuro universe, except maybe Ronald…I digress_

_But, I know enough about music to write and describe it, as opposed to say…Baking. So I chose to center my AU around music. Anyways, enjoy a prologue._

_Hope you guys dig the story. Reviews and flames appreciated, thought please, TRY to be insightful…_

_Rated M for future chapters, swearing, child abuse. Yaoi, shota relationship._

_I'm not sure how often this will be updated, as often as I can, hopefully._

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><p><strong>A Phantom's Canon<strong>

**Written by Freedom To Rhyme**

_**Track Zero; Overture**_

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><p>"Happy birthday, dear Annie! Happy birthday to you!" The assembled family and friends clapped and cheered loudly as the flames atop the number-shaped candles were blown out. "32", the candles read.<p>

"Ciel, you put the candles on the cake backwards!" Anne had tried to say to her nephew. He merely stared back blankly, not finding anything humorous in his aunt's joke.

"Years don't turn backwards, Aunt Anne," He removed the candles from the cake, absentmindedly licking the frosting off the base of the 3 before sheathing a knife to slice the dessert into equal parts.

Anne eyed her nephew wearily.

"And I can't believe you didn't sing with everyone else!" She tried once more to lighten Ciel's permanently dark demeanor. "Now where's the fun in that?" Anne shook her finger in mock-scolding.  
>"Yeah, Ciel!" Lizzy, the elder cousin of one year, chirped eagerly. "You HAVE to sing Happy Birthday to someone on their birthday, it's like, a rule!" Ciel cringed. He didn't sing. He refused to sing, even something as simple as "Happy Birthday".<p>

"We should all sing again, so Ciel can join in this time!" Lizzy tugged on her younger cousin's sleeve. "Right Ciel?"

"No, Elizabeth," The dining room silenced. A singular cold, blue eye stared up at the physically elder cousin. Mentally, Ciel was far older than Lizzy would ever be.

Lizzy stared back, hurt plastered on her porcelain face.

"B-but, why?" She whimpered, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"I don't sing,"  
>"Yes you do! You have the voice of an ang-"<p>

"Enough, Elizabeth!" The small, twelve year old child scolded with the authority of an adult, glare boring harshly at the innocent girl before him. Without faltering, Ciel said darkly, "I will never sing again," He stood from the table, the eyes of his family following every movement. Turning to his aunt, Ciel said, "I apologize for spoiling your birthday, Aunt Anne. If you'll excuse me, I shall be retiring for the night. A child such as myself should not be up at such ungodly hours," Before Anne, or any person situated at the table could respond, Ciel had already ascended the staircase to his bedroom. At the sound of the door locking, conversation in the dining room escalated back to it's original level.

Ciel moved rigidly to his bed. Stiffly, he situated himself beneath the covers, curling into ball, hugging his knees to his chest. Behind this closed door, nobody could see. Nobody could see how childish he really was. Nobody could see how cowardly he really was.

_"Sing for me, little boy. You have the voice of an angel,"_

Behind this closed door, nobody could help him. Ciel shifted beneath the sheets.  
>I don't need their help, he thought to himself. They didn't help me last time.<p>

* * *

><p>"Ciel….are you asleep?"<p>

"No," Anne sighed. She assumed so. It was rare for Ciel to sleep more than five hours a night. It was unheard of for him to willingly go to bed before midnight. The clock read 3:30. Ciel had not closed his eyes, yet alone slept since he had excused himself from the party 4 hours prior.

Anne crossed her nephew's room and sat on the edge of his bed. She reached one hand out to stroke his hair, but the boy immediately turned away. Anne sighed once more. Her nephew was more than difficult.

"Ciel…I would say I'm sorry for tonight, for bringing up singing. But…I'm not. Especially when I don't understand why you will not sing. You had such a beautiful voice before-"

"My voice is disgusting now,"

"Why is that?"

"I'm rather tired now, Aunt Anne. I think I'd like to sleep now,"

"Ciel, don't do this to me. I know I'm no replacement for your parents, but I am still your aunt. Don't turn me away, I just want to help," Anne waited for a response. And waited. And waited. She was greeted by silence. Anne frowned. Abruptly, she stood from the bed.

"Fine then. Don't say anything. Remain miserable, drown in the past."Ciel heard the door click closed as his aunt left.

Alone again, he mused. Maybe it's best I stay this way.

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><p><em>AN; <em>

_Canon; A piece of music in which a main melody (the leader) is mimicked by additional voices (the follower) be it identical or with variation. The title makes way more sense than I realized, and I'm almost proud of what used to be a lame title._

_Overture- the opening to a musical composition_


	2. Track One: Caesura

_A/N; Thank you guys so much for the positive feedback; seeing reviews that say they want an update only makes me want to write faster~ Hopefully this chapter is okay, this story is going to go by a little slow at first. But I have a lot of shit already written out for the plot. I'll try to work on this a little bit every day. Speaking of plot…you should see the notes I have for this story. They are horrendous._

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><p><strong>A Phantom's Canon<strong>

**Written By Freedom To Rhyme**

_**Track One; Caesura**_

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><p>Sleeping in late was not something Sebastian Michaelis tended to indulge in. More often than not, the young man would be out of bed no later than eight. Sebastian was not one to let hours go to waste.<p>

However, the night prior had been a stressful one. With his rapidly decreasing pupil count, paying rent and feeding himself was becoming more and more difficult. When his only remaining pupil phoned to state he was ending his weekly lessons, Sebastian should have been more than thankful. The man was tone deaf; Sebastian was nearly convinced just listening to the man sing for an hour a week was causing his own pitch to slip.

He paid for his lessons (as useless to him as they may be) and provided Sebastian with his only source of steady income. In despair, the ebony-locked man turned toward the numerous instrument cases propped vertically against the wall. He had already resorted to selling one violin and more than a few guitars. Sighing, Sebastian came to the conclusion that if he could not pay for food, he would not be playing the instruments anyways.

It was ten thirty. Unaccustomed to waking up so late, Sebastian padded around his kitchen groggily, fumbling with the coffee maker. The unpleasant odor of cheap pre-ground coffee wafted through the apartment. Sebastian poured himself a cup and took a reluctant sip; the taste was foul, and Sebastian much preferred tea. The bitter taste, however, did wake the man from the effects of too much sleep.

Pressing his forehead against the kitchen cabinets, Sebastian calculated how much cash he had left, and whether he could manage to live off of instant noodles and stale cracker.

An obnoxious ringing sound echoed through the silent apartment. Without lifting his head from the cabinets, Sebastian pawed the counter beside him, searching for the source of the sound. Picking the phone up from the cradle, Sebastian pressed it to the side of his face. More than likely, it was his landlord calling to hassle about the over-due rent.

"Hello, Sebastian Michaelis speaking,"

"Hello, Mr. Michaelis. I'm calling to inquire about vocal lessons for my nephew? Have I dialed the correct number?," Sebastian straitened up immediately. A new pupil. A new pupil meant instruction. Instruction meant pay. Pay meant eating. Eating meant living.

"Yes, you've called the right number," Sebastian sat himself down at the kitchen table. Unopened bills lay scattered on the hard wood surface, mocking his recent lack of income.

"Perfect. I'd like to enroll my nephew for weekly vocal lessons,"  
>"Great. My fee is-"<p>

"That's not a concern, Mr. Michaelis. I'm willing to pay whatever you state," Sebastian nearly choked on his repulsive coffee.

"…Alright then. I'll require your name, phone number, and preferred day and time for the weekly lessons," The young musical instructor grabbed a pen and his water bill. On the envelope, Sebastian wrote the words spoken on the opposite end of the receiver. Her name was Angelina Durless. It sounded oddly familiar.

"Our best time is on Wednesday at around three thirthy, which is tomorrow. If you aren't busy, I'd like to start the lessons as soon as possible,"  
>Sebastian would be lying to say he was busy.<p>

"That's perfectly fine with me, I have a rather open schedule as of late," Would it turn Angelina away to say he was so free because he had no other work?

"Oh, if you are free today, it would be lovely to meet for lunch, so I can introduce you to my nephew. Of course, it will be my treat." And free lunch to boot, perhaps I should wake up late more often, he thought to himself.

"Yes, I'd appreciate that greatly. May I ask your nephew's name?"  
>"Ah, of course. His name is Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive," Sebastian froze. A pregnant silence filled the room.<p>

"Mr. Michaelis? Are you still there?" Sebastian's lips curled into a twisted smirk.

"Ah, yes. I look forward to seeing both you and Ciel this afternoon. Take care, Madam,"

* * *

><p>"Ciel! Come now, we're going out," Ciel looked up from his book to his aunt, raising a brow. Aunt Anne seldom took Ciel out somewhere pleasant; more often than not, he was usually dragged to a dreadful luncheon with his aunt's dull friends, or to an overcrowded mall. If this outing was to be anything similar, Ciel would much rather stay home.<p>

"Where would we be heading?"  
>"To Blue Note," Ciel put his book on the table. Going to Blue Note changed everything; putting up with dull conversations about men and the newest fashion trends was a small price to pay if it meant getting a slice of Blue Note's chocolate cake.<p>

"Are you coming?" Anne asked, though she knew the response. Ciel could not resist the temptation of sweets. Anne smiled sadly to herself; it was perhaps the only childish thing Ciel managed to keep within his grasp.

"Are we meeting someone at the café?" Ciel asked, voice monotone to hide the slight thrill he possessed. The chocolate cake was beyond good.

"Yes, but it's no one you've met before," Anne didn't mention she hadn't either.

"Hmm," Ciel said absently. He could care less who his aunt's friends were, there was no doubt that he knew none of their faces, let alone names.

Blue Note was relatively crowded; businessmen and women eating hastily while reading emails off smart phones filled the small tables. Waiters walked briskly from one table to the next, refilling water glasses whilst balancing dishes in the crooks of their arms.

"Ah! That must be him, he fits the description he gave me perfectly," Ciel looked in the direction his aunt was facing. A young man, no older than twenty-five, sat at a small 4-seater table beside a window. Black hair framed the man's angular face.

"Isn't he a bit young for you, Aunt Anne?" Ciel droned, not exactly caring who is aunt was dating. Though, take away ten years from both members of the relationship, and it would surely be pedophilic. Ciel couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

"Hush, Ciel. He is not what you think…" The two approached the table. As they drew nearer to the black-haired man, Anne added "…though I would not mind in the slightest if he were…" Ciel rolled his eyes.

"Hello! You must be Mr. Michaelis!" Ciel cringed at the over-enthusiastic tone of his aunt's voice. The black-haired man looked up to see two faces, one framed in deep red, the other covered in slate locks.

"Yes, I am. Pleased to meet you, Madam Durless," While saying this, however, Sebastian's gaze settled on Ciel. Ciel stared back without faltering. He was perplexed by the man's deep cinnamon eyes- not quite red, but not quite brown either. His own exposed blue orb bored into the eyes of the man situated across from him.  
>"And you must be Ciel, am I correct?" The man's lips curled into a smile. Ciel found the smile humorous, for the blatant falsification of happiness was rather amusing.<br>"You are correct," Ciel seated himself diagonal from Sebastian.

Ciel allowed his mind to wander as Sebastian and his aunt made small talk ("This café is very nice." "Oh yes! It's Ciel's favorite, they have lovely desserts!") Ciel sliced a section of his chocolate cake off with the side of his fork, following to spoke it with the tines and slip the sweet into his mouth. Glancing absently to the side, Ciel found Sebastian's gaze trained on him once more. Ciel found this slightly odd, but was not disturbed. He met the man's glance with a nod, and returned to his cake.

"Are you excited for your lesson tomorrow, Ciel?" Sebastian said, the first time addressing Ciel directly since he had introduced himself.

"Lesson?" Ciel said blankly, not turning his attention away from the dessert.

"Your vocal lesson,"

The sound of metal clattering against plaster was nearly deafening. The café silenced for a few, long, pregnant seconds before returning to maximum volume. Cake forgotten, Ciel shot Sebastian a glare.

"Excuse me?"

Sebastian tilted his head to one side, highly amused by the boy's expression. The glare seemed so out of place on such a youthful face; such an emotion was reserved for adults, children below the age of sixteen should not be glaring with such malice. A twelve-year-old boy, not even above the five-foot mark, trying to act so adult. It was rather endearing, and Sebastian could not help but smirk.

"Yes, Ciel. Your vocal lessons. Your aunt has drafted you to be my student. Has she not told you? Perhaps it was to be a surprise," He placed a gloved finger to his lips. If Ciel weren't so furious, he would question why the man was wearing gloves while eating. "Ah, perhaps I ruined the surprise,"

Ciel said nothing. He stood from the table, cake remaining half-eaten, and stormed out of the café.

* * *

><p>"Ciel, running away from problems is childish!"<br>"Giving up singing is a choice, not a problem, Aunt Anne,"

"There you go again, living in the past! Do you think your parents would like it if they couldn't hear your voice again? Do you think they'd want you to live in misery over something you can't reverse?" Ciel shot his aunt a glare.

"You're being insensitive, Aunt. Do watch what you say," Anne glared back at her nephew.

"No, Ciel. Do watch what YOU say. I am your guardian, and as such, you will do as I say. You are attending these vocal lessons with Mr. Michaelis. Your first one is tomorrow at three thirty, and they will continue weekly until I see fit," Ciel turned to walk away, but was caught by the shoulder. "You WILL go, Ciel," She said sternly.

Ciel frowned and glared, his one exposed eye cold and harsh. He did not say no, nor did he say yes. He simply glared at his aunt until she released his shoulder. The boy walked away briskly, ascending the stairs with heavier steps than normal. The door to his room was slammed shut, and the click of the lock made Anne sigh.

"I'd be lying if I said I was doing this for you, Ciel. I'm doing this for myself…I want to hear your beautiful voice again. I want to see that smile," Her truthful statement went unheard by the furious nephew.

* * *

><p>The vocal teacher's home was modest, to say the very least. Somehow, Sebastian had gotten a baby grand piano up the three flights of stairs and through the door of his apartment. It did not need to be said that Sebastian would not be moving any time soon, even if he had the money to do so.<p>

Several instrument cases were propped neatly against the wall. Unlike most musicians, no instruments hung on the walls, or even stood out of their cases on stands.

Sebastian did live in an apartment, despite the abundance of musical instruments. The baby grand took up the entire living room. The remainder of the apartment was sparse and bare. A cheap looking table sat in the kitchen, making some sort of makeshift dining area. There was no couch or television. There were, however, several stools in the living room, along with the piano bench.

"How…homey," Anne managed to say. Ciel remained silent, not even bothering to feign interest.

Sebastian chuckled.  
>"There's no need to try to compliment. My standards of living are not so high," Sebastian offered Anne a stool, which she declined.<p>

"I will not be staying long. I think Ciel would prefer it if I wasn't present at these lessons. Good day, Mr. Michaelis," With that, the red-clad aunt was gone.

The two remaining occupants of the apartment stared at one another. There was no awkwardness in either of their gazes.

"Would you like a seat?" Sebastian offered, breaking the silence. Ciel sat, but said nothing.

"Have you ever sung before?" Sebastian knew the answer, but there was no harm in asking. Ciel nodded.

"I've heard you were very good," Another nod. Sebastian sat on the piano bench, back to the keys.

"So what are you doing here? Why am I instructing you, if you already know how to sing?" Silence.

"You can't sing if you can't even speak,"

Ciel turned his head, face expressionless. Sebastian smirked.

"Well, it doesn't really matter to me. Whether you want to sing or not is up to you; I'm getting paid double regardless," Sebastian turned on the bench to face the piano. Placing his still-gloved hands on the keys, he began to absently play chords, singing along, as if no one was present to hear.

_Mother do you think they'll drop the bomb?_  
><em>Mother, do you think they'll like this song?<em>

Ciel looked up abruptly, the familiar tune washing through his ears. The last time he had heard this song….the last time…

_"Little boy, you'll sing in your cell, but not for me? I believe you need to be punished…"_

Ciel bit his lip. He stared intently at Sebastian, singing the song flawlessly, playing the piano part simultaneously.

_Momma won't let anyone dirty get through_

_Momma's gonna wait up until you get in_

_Momma's gonna always find out where you've been_

_Momma's gonna keep baby, healthy and clean…_

Ciel closed his eyes. If he thought hard enough, he could feel her warm hand running through his hair. He could hear her laugh, he could hear her voice.

_"Little boy, it's alright. I'll be your mother now,"_

Ciel's eyes flickered open. He saw Sebastian, lost at his piano. The final line of the song was approaching. Ciel opened his mouth, and practically silent, sang beside his teacher.

_Mother, did it need to be so high?_

* * *

><p>AN;

Anyone who knows the song gets cookies. I'll say what it is in the next chapter. I won't be surprised if someone knows it, it's a pretty popular song.

Caesura- an abrupt stop in a musical composition.


	3. Track Two: Espressivo

_AN; I SHOULD be reading and working on my summer work for school. But I just can't bring myself to read right now. I want to write, even thought my writing is…fsshnnt. Mediocre at best, especially since I don't have a beta. Anyways yeah here's chapter 2._

_Also on an off note….is it sad that I went back to the 5th episode of season 2 JUST to rewatch the scene where Ciel clings to Sebastian after entering the Trancy mansion? …yeah I'm pathetic I hunt out canon SebxCiel scenes and coo over them PAY ME NO MIND._

_AND! Congratulations to MikiNobies for guessing the song in chapter 1. It is indeed Mother, by Pink Floyd. Awesome job~_

_Also, France's Clouded Skies belongs to me. Yes. I wrote a song just for this fanfic. And yes. It does have a melody. At some point, when the entire song is published into the story, I'll post some sort of link somewhere so you can all hear what it sounds like._

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><p><strong>A Phantom's Canon<strong>

**Written By Freedom To Rhyme**

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><p><em><strong>Track 2; Espressivo<strong>_

Sebastian had been rather proud of himself during the first lesson. According to Madam Durless, Ciel had not sung in two years. No amount of bribery, begging, pleading, or even threatening had gotten the boy to sing. Yet, there he was, singing on his own accord, albeit rather hushed. More than likely, Ciel had not intended Sebastian to hear.

Now, however, Sebastian was not so pleased. Three Wednesdays had passed since the first lesson, and Ciel showed no interest in singing. Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose; he had not expected to take steps backwards as the lessons progressed.

It was now lesson four. Sebastian should not be displeased; he was getting paid $500 an hour to do absolutely nothing. His usual hourly rate was closer to fifty, when he used to have students. Madam Durless agreed to pay double. Perhaps she had no idea what she should have been doubling, or was just truly terrible at math. Once, she had left Ciel with Sebastian for three hours. The reason was unknown, but he had been paid all the same.

Had the lessons been with any other child, Sebastian would have not minded at all. Ciel Phantomhive, however, was not any other child. When Ciel stepped into the apartment, Sebastian smirked. Ciel frowned.

"You know, that smirk you wear is most likely the most irritating thing I have ever seen," Sebastian chuckled.

"I'm glad. The most irritating thing I've heard is your singing voice, or lack thereof it," Sebastian plucked a conducting wand from a music stand and pointed it at the hollow of Ciel's throat. "I assume we are not using this today?"  
>"<p>

You assume correct," Ciel took his seat on his usual stool, the one farthest from the piano bench. Pulling a book from his schoolbag, Ciel settled down to read for the next fifty-eight minutes of his "lesson".

"Did you just come from school?" Sebastian asked, not really interested in the answer. Ciel hummed a conformation.

"What grade are you in?"

"Eighth,"

"…Didn't you just turn twelve?"

Ciel shut his book, and stared Sebastian down with an emotionless gaze.

"Mr. Michaelis, I'm quite sure this conversation is irrelevant. This is nothing more than small talk, meaning, you are likely not even interested in the answers. I hate conversation like this; nonsensical babble that inevitably leads to nothing accomplished," Sebastian blinked, and then coughed to hide a laugh. It was humorous for such a complex statement to come from a boy whose feet hovered several inches from the ground.

"Very well then. If you have no interest in being taught, continue with your reading," Sebastian turned back to his manuscript paper, humming absently to himself as he darkened notes on the staff.

Ciel closed the book to look at his teacher.

"What are you writing?" he asked.

"Aren't we reverting back to small talk again? Or are you truly interested?" Sebastian said with a smirk. Ciel frowned, and his teacher continued without his reply.

"It's a piece I've been working on for quite some time. It's nearly done," Ciel stood from his stool and moved to stand behind his teacher.

"_France's Clouded Skies_?" Ciel scoffed. "That name is idiotic; it has no ring, and certainly does not roll off the tongue easily," Sebastian chuckled.

"I'll give you that much,"

"Can I hear it? Perhaps the song itself is not as bad as its title," Sebastian turned on the piano bench to face his pupil, manuscript still in hand.

"I'm afraid not," he said, shaking his head in mock sadness. "You see, the piece calls for a male soprano. It is not possible for me to sing this," Ciel rolled his eyes.

"Who writes a piece they can't even play themselves?" Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, but said nothing. He turned back to the piano, running complex arpeggios up and down the keys. Ciel would have been slightly impressed by the man's skill, but he was far too distracted by the white fabric covering Sebastian's hands.

"Do you always wear gloves? That can't be convenient for a musician," The dissonant sound of the piano ceased. Looking to the boy with a smirk, Sebastian pulled Ciel down to sit beside him on the piano bench. Ciel's brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

"Do you always cover your eye? That can't be convenient for a child, who has only seen the world for twelve years," Reflexively, Ciel reached up to cover his right eye, almost feeling exposed.

"…My eye has seen enough for two lifetimes…"the boy responded darkly. Sebastian hummed absently. The composer reached forward, placing his left palm over the boy's right eye. Ciel flinched away violently, but Sebastian kept him seated. Leaning over, the elder man breathed into the boy's ear,

"See? We match," Ciel's scowl deepened, attempting to swat Sebastian's hand away. The wrist was caught by the musician's unoccupied hand. Staring up at the twisted smirk, Ciel growled,

"Stop making ignorant assumptions. You sound like a fool," Sebastian simply continued to smirk down, enjoying his student's position. There was no fear in the boy's eyes; the one visible azure orb locked fiercely with Sebastian's own. Leaning down, the young composer sang softly into the boy's ear.

_Blue skies are clouding gray today_

_Nobody knows you've slipped away_

_Tossing, turning, one more try_

_As rain falls from this French blue sky_

_Kisses follow, one by one..._

Ciel froze beneath Sebastian's hold. Kisses…He could feel them, running across his body, down his neck, over his chest. The boy squeezed his eyes shut. No…not there.

_Struggle, struggle, until it's done_

He had thrashed, he had screamed. He had done all he had been told to do in such a situation… Still, they did not stop. Further, and further down, the lips traveled across places foreign to such touch. And little Ciel did not like it one bit. Thrashing, tossing, kicking, screaming, all was futile. For no one was there to hear him sing his song of despair, other than the one who was conducting.

_Locked away and begins to fade_

It was dark, it was cold. He wanted to go home; he wanted to curl up beside his mother and father beneath the warm comfort of their bed sheets. He wanted his mother to sing him to sleep, like she always did, and for his father to run his fingers through his hair. But there was none of that here. He was alone, in the dark, in the cold.

_Our lovely French sky no one will save_

He cried. He cried because he was alone, so alone. He cried because he wanted to be home, or at the park, or with his choir, anywhere but where he was now. He sobbed. He sobbed because he missed his mother; he missed his father. He sobbed because he knew he would never see any of those things again. He wept. He wept because no one was there to save him. He wept because this was his new home.

_Calling and crying, but no one will answer_

_Screaming and weeping, it's only amused her_

_Singing and praying, hoping for salvation_

_Blue skies are now but, mere apparitions…_

And the boy screamed. He screamed into the coat-covered chest of his music teacher. He spotted that wool-covered chest with tearstains, not caring whether the teacher thought he was childish. He did not care if the teacher pushed him away.

But he was not rejected. The boy sat on the piano bench, crying into the chest of the teacher from which he refused instruction. He was dimly aware of a heavy arm draped across the middle of his back. Ciel had not been held with affection for two years. He had never allowed it.

The small boy buried his face farther into the thick wool of his instructor's coat. Perhaps, just this once, he would allow himself to be a child with this almost-stranger.

Sebastian held the small, shaking boy. Had this been any other student, he would have most likely phoned his guardian to take him home. However, Ciel Phantomhive was not just any other student. Holding the boy close, Sebastian mumbled, more to himself than Ciel,

"I will save you, Ciel. I will always save you,"

* * *

><p><em>AN;…facepalm…..I know I said in the last chapter than this story would go by kind of slow. But then I remembered. I write. VERY. FAST. PACED. SHIT. So yeah. What I said was a lie. Things happen fast in my stories. Sometimes that's good, and sometimes that's bad. Bear with me….Also I am not very consistent on chapter length. This one's not even 2000 words…._

_Espressivo; a musical term to show that a piece should be played with expression_

_France's Clouded Skies; lyrics by Freedom To Rhyme_


	4. Track Three: Ostinato

_A/N; A link to France's Clouded Skies has been posted on my profile. I've only sang what's been written in the last chapter, so no spoilers there. My voice is derpy. You have been warned. Hope you guys enjoy anyways~ I'll include the link in the closing A/N as well._

_I feel like I'm playing favorites and sucking up here, but I feel really honored to know that Akiru-chan is reading this story~ (insertlittlefangirlsqueelhere,) Being a total fantard of The Devil's Canvas and What May Come, I feel like….I dunno, David Gilmour just complimented my band's CD._

_OKAY STORY WHAT HAVE YOU._

_….do you think I should get a beta, guys? My sentence structure could probably use it.._

* * *

><p><strong>A Phantom's Canon<strong>

**Written By Freedom To Rhyme**

* * *

><p><strong>Track Three; Ostinato<strong>

Anne frowned when Ciel emerged from his vocal teacher's apartment. She was certainly not oblivious to the red-tinted eyes and uncharacteristically down-turned eyebrows. Ciel never looked sad in his short -yet long- twelve-year life. Anne had never seen the boy cry, even as a child; he was always smiling brightly at anything that spoke. As of recent, the boy hardly showed any other emotion than extremely miffed. It would be a lie to say she wasn't surprised when the boy climbed into the passenger's seat in a state of forlornness.

"Ciel? Is something the matter? You look frightful…" Anne asked carefully. Whenever Anne ever asked Ciel's state of being, he had always shot her a cold glare, and told her prying was beyond rude. Today, however, the small child looked out the window to his left, avoiding his Aunt's gaze.

"I'm fine," he said flatly. With the tone the boy spoke with, and the obviously distraught facial expression, Ciel might as well have said, "No, actually, I'm dreadful. But I don't want your help, so leave me be,"

Anne sighed. She found it to be a growing trend; Ciel would much rather stay miserable than ask for anyone's help.

The ride was silent. At some point, Anne had turned on the radio. At some other point, Ciel has switched it off in irritation, mumbling something about poor music taste. And thus, the red Bentley remained void of sound. It was not until pulling into the driveway did Anne say,

"Oh, yes. I forgot to mention, but Lizzy phoned while you were at your lesson. She said to tell you she'd be dropping by tomorrow afternoon," Ciel's trademark scowl returned, his eyebrows shifting to their usual arched positions.

"You did tell her no, and that'd I'd be busy, yes?" Anne looked at her nephew.

"Ciel, you are never busy. You lock yourself up in your room doing god knows what," She unlocked the door to the house. "Would it kill you to spend a little time with your cousin? You know how much she adores you,"  
>"I'm quite aware, and that's what disturbs me…" Ciel said beneath his breath. The affection Lizzy displayed towards him was almost above platonic. Before his aunt could retort, Ciel had already locked himself in the confines of his bedroom.<p>

To any normal onlooker, Ciel's room was relatively normal. A small bed was pushed into a corner without much thought; it seemed to say the occupant of the room did not care for sleep much. A large oak desk sat in front of a window, desk chair facing the door. A desktop computer sat beneath the desk, laptop of the same brand directly in front of the monitor. Several stacks of paper were organized neatly and laid to the sides. Pens, pencils, and other miscellaneous office materials were tucked away neatly into the desk drawers. Bookshelves were the only remaining pieces of furniture. The room smelled of aging paper, which was one of the very few things Ciel found pleasant.

There was nothing in Ciel's room that made it seem out of place. It was a very, standard room.

However, there was absolutely nothing in the room that said it belonged to a twelve-year-old boy. No sport's equipment, no CDs or DVDs. It was also disturbingly tidy.

Ciel situated himself at the desk, the only place that ever felt like his home. The bed in his room was seldom used, for the boy slept at his desk majority of nights. Ciel booted up his desktop computer, and laid his head down against the cool oak. He closed his eyes, only then realizing how much they stung.

From crying, he thought bitterly. The boy bit his lip hard. He felt a familiar metallic taste fill his mouth, and he was satisfied. Ciel began to absently drum his fingers on the surface of his desk. Abruptly, he stopped and glared at his hands. The boy had found himself tapping his fingers to the oddly swung beat of Sebastian's song. Angrily, Ciel pulled his keyboard and mouse closer to him, occupying his hands to prevent the idiotic action from reoccurring. He fired up his Internet browser and placed his hands on his keyboard. He hesitated. …It wasn't like he was curious about him, or interested in him; god no, that would be ridiculous. He was doing this as a precaution…

Ciel frowned. This time, his fingers clicked away at the keyboard, typing out "Sebastian Michaelis" into his internet browser's search bar.

There wasn't much on the man. Ciel wasn't surprised; judging by the amounts of Styrofoam instant noodles cups in his teacher's trashcan, Sebastian was not a popular musician. A few personal sites were yielded, obligatory social networking sites, and a personal webpage. Ciel browsed the personal page, finding little of interest. There were a few samples of original compositions, which Ciel took a brief listen to. He had to admit Sebastian had a very, very soothing tenor voice. However, every composition seemed to be about the same thing, some sort of traumatic, dark event. Ciel found that curious, and committed the piece of information to memory.

Ciel sifted through the man's Facebook. There was not much of interest there either. Sebastian, despite his (Ciel admitted bitterly) unnaturally handsome features, did not have a girlfriend, or many friends in general. Communication on the Facebook page seemed sparse. Perhaps Sebastian was too devoted to the job he really didn't have? Ciel scoffed.

There was not much more the internet could offer. There was one post on Craigslist that contained Sebastian's name. Ciel knew of the many things Craigslist offered, and opted to avoid the link. More than likely, it was an advertisement for vocal instruction. But had it be some other source of income for the man….Ciel did not wish to know.

Clicking through Google's results, Ciel found more useless sites containing other Sebastian Michaelises. Near the end of the search results, buried between some article on Victorian butler attire (Ciel did not even bother questioning Google's search criteria) was a scanned image of a yellowed newspaper clipping. The small, faded text was nearly illegible, but Ciel managed to make out;

_13th, January 1996- Missing Person's report. Sebastian Michaelis; aged ten. 157.5cm tall, 39kil. Black hair, pale skin. Peculiar eye color; dark maroon. Last seen in a black sweatshirt and dark blue jeans. Missing since 14th, December 1995._

Ciel blinked. He right-clicked the article, printing the page out. His eye narrowed; it really was a small world, the boy thought.

* * *

><p>Thursday afternoon, Ciel refused to board his bus. At home awaited a blonde, pink-clad girl who had an undying need to smother him until breathing was impossible. He vaguely remembered being very close to his cousin as child. In the back of his mind, he somewhat remembered playing house with the girl, and that Lizzie was his wife. Ciel shuddered.<p>

He let his bus home pass, and boarded the next arrival. Ciel was familiar with the route of the 52-B. In the past, he had ridden this bus after school every day. Three stops, just three stops. He was going somewhere familiar, safe, and well known to him. Yet, Ciel could not keep his hands from shaking.

It was just like he remembered; two identical oak trees stood erect at the park's entrance. A few steps in, Ciel saw the familiar bench his where his mother usually sat, waiting for him. There was the open field, where Ciel often played fetch his dog, Sebastian. The scent of freshly-cut grass wafted through the air; Ciel inhaled deeply, allowing a brief smile to play across his lips. It was peaceful. It was calm. It was almost like home.

And then he heard the singing.

A small choir was assembled in the center plaza of the park. There were six or seven boys, all around ten years of age. Several adults were gathered around, enjoying the soothing performance.

Ciel found himself walking in the direction of the singing. He found himself repeating, over and over "It isn't you singing up there….you aren't in that choir anymore...you have nothing to worry about,"

The song of the choir grew louder and Ciel drew closer. He recognized the song; he had sung it before as well. Though the title eluded him, he was sure he could sing along if he chose to. Ciel would not take that chance.

For such a small group, the choir sounded surprisingly complete. They had full, seamless three-part harmonies, and Ciel found himself nodding in approval.

As the piece drew to a close, the audience began a soft applause. The choirmaster turned, bowed, and scanned the crowd happily. Ciel noted that the man was still young, no older than thirty. Yet, he had a full head of white hair. Ciel found this peculiar, and assumed it to be dyed.

It was then that the choirmaster locked Ciel's gaze. His eyes were a frightening shade of violet, and looked at Ciel with the intensity that could only be recognition.

The choir swarmed their master happily, smiles plastered on their faces with glee.

"Master Landers! We did good today, didn't we?" The man's gaze was reluctantly averted from Ciel to look at the other boy clinging to his side. Ciel took the moment to run.

Ciel ran out of the park, and in an unknown direction. He could not go back to the bus stop; his bus home would not arrive for another seventeen minutes. The boy turned left, and ran straight. He did not know what he was running from, or if he was even running from anything. Ciel just ran.

At some point, Ciel had turned to look behind him. Panic arose when he saw a white-clad figure disappear into an alleyway. Ciel was torn between running even faster, or slowing to a walk to make him appear oblivious to his follower. The child took in his surroundings. To assure he was indeed being followed, Ciel took unorthodox turns into narrow alleys, and looped around buildings in circles. Each time he turned, the white clad figure was not very far behind.

Not very good at stalking…Ciel thought to himself humorlessly. He sped up his pace to an accelerated walk. Memories swam in Ciel's eyes, and he carelessly tried to push them away. He would NOT let that happen again.

Ciel remained alert of his surroundings, looking for any sort of store that was open. Stupidly, Ciel had run into a deserted area of town, perhaps a storage district. He was coming close to breaking down in panic. But Ciel would not allow himself to stoop so low.

Around a few more alleys, and past a few more streets, Ciel saw a lit shop window. The child checked behind him; the man seemed to still be behind a few corners. Breaking into a sprint, Ciel burst through the shops doors. There was one person in the shop; a dark head was ducked behind the register. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ciel sunk to his knees. He was safe. No matter how dumb his pursuer may have been, no one was stupid enough to attempt anything in public.

It took Ciel a moment to register that he had stepped inside a music store. He rolled his eyes; of all the stores he could have ended up in…

Ciel approached the counter, determined to tell the shopkeeper of his potential pursuer.

"Can I help you?" Ciel stopped. He frowned. The voice was unmistakable.

"It really is a small world, isn't it, Sebastian?"

* * *

><p>Sebastian blinked at the small, slate-haired boy standing behind the opposite side of the counter. Of all the people that could have walked into this store…Sebastian almost found the incident too coincidental to be real coincidence.<p>

"What are you doing here?" He stated flatly.

"Someone's following me," Sebastian could almost see the cliché dripping from the ceiling; he was almost tempted to look up and check for leaks. He pulled the boy behind the counter.

"Who?" Ciel shook his head.

"I don't know. I went to the park, and there was a boy's choir performing. Their choirmaster gave me a strange look, and he followed me here. I didn't know him," Ciel hesitated. "Well, I don't think I did. Something about his eyes seemed familiar, though,"

"…uh huh," Sebastian looked at the boy skeptically. He glanced briefly toward the storefront. Suddenly, the man pulled the younger boy to the ground.

"What the hell?" Ciel shrieked.

"Shush!" Sebastian hissed, gloved finger pressed to his lip. "Stay down. I think I see your stalker,"

Sebastian hovered briefly over the boy, a position that would be considered indecent out of context. Before standing, the man slipped a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes. Ciel did not say anything, though he could not help thinking that wearing sunglasses indoors was even more suspicious than not wearing them at all. Ciel did not think as to why Sebastian would also have to hide his face from the white-clad man.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the figure passing back and forth on the street outside the store. More than once, he stopped to peer inside. Sebastian clenched a fist, nails scraping against his palms. He prayed the sunglasses and distance between them would leave him unrecognized.

It would be so much easier, Sebastian thought to himself, just to have killed him before, like everyone else. He clawed the counter. If he took one step inside that door, Sebastian could not promise he'd stay law-abiding.

The man stood outside the shop, facing the street. He seemed to be contemplating something. It seemed days had gone by before he finally crossed to the other side and walked out into the distance.

Sebastian visibly deflated, hunching over the counter. He peeled the sunglasses off his face and tossed them to the side.

"You can get up now. He's gone,"

"You're sure?"  
>"Positive,"<br>Ciel stood up and stretched. Like a cat arching its back, Sebastian noted. He watched contently, biting his tongue all the while.

Ciel looked to his teacher.

"You seemed to know him. Any idea why he followed me all this way?"

Sebastian looked to his student, a grim look etched into his face.

"I can think of a few good reasons…"

* * *

><p><em>AN; Yeah. I made fun of my own cliché so you don't have to waste effort doing it yourself. Honestly, I think making fun of myself was the best part of this chapter xD I don't really like this one that much, it's more a transitional chapter than anything else, I had some trouble actually writing it, since I couldn't think of anything good….<em>

_Anyways, here's the link to the song again. Just replace the (dot) and (underscore) stuff._

_http(colon)(slash)(slash)(slash)hotlink(slash)c6mu6w481x(slash)france(underscore)s(underscore)clouded(underscore)skies(dot)mp3_

_Also the link is on my profile. You have to copy and paste it, I couldn't get it to work ay other way…So if you don't want to fill in all the shit from above, just head to my profile and copy it from there._

_Ostinato; a repeat of a section of a musical composition_


End file.
